A Sky Full Of Stars
by Ataraxie
Summary: After five years without talking to each other, Harry and Hermione are forced to work together for a week. Will this old and strange sparkle between them come back again, this time stronger than before, or will they realise that their love was doomed from the beginning?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

**This story will be shorter than my previous ones, and most of it is already written. I hope that you'll enjoy the ride.  
**

**PS: the italic parts indicate a memory.**

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**A Sky Full Of Stars**

**I**

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Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed for the umpteenth time, his hands crossed over his desk. In front of him, Harry James Potter slightly moved on his chair, visibly uncomfortable.

"Why are you saying me this, Minister? I don't think that it's a necessary information for our case."

The young wizard cleared his throat, twice, doing his best to keep his expression impassive.

"Actually, it's more than necessary for me to talk to you about her: I need you to work with Miss Granger in order to clear the name of one of our highly qualified Aurors."

"But she had nothing to do with this," Harry interjected. "I mean, she doesn't even work for us right now, and, as far as I'm concerned, there is no way for her to be involved in this case."

Harry was well-aware of what had happened to one of his fellow colleagues: he had been caught during a mission in America, and since then, everybody there thought that he was a spy for the English Ministry of Magic. The relations between the Magical New-York and London weren't the best lately, poisoned by some spying suspicious, along with an escalation of violence of words between the two countries. Edward Tellington had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Harry was sure of it. The thing was that the Minister of Magic of the United States was sure of the contrary, and that he would do everything in his power to show to the world that he was right.

"Don't be so sure about it, Harry. Hermione currently works for the Ministry of Magic of the United States, and she is one of their best assets when it comes to legal files. As you may now, I tried several times to hire her, but she always refused."

"And what do you want me to do? To find a way to convince her to work for us?" Harry laughed hollowly. "Come on, Kingsley, you know how my relationship with Hermione is lately: non-existent."

"It's not what I'm asking you to do, to be honest," Kingsley explained. "What I need you to do is a bit more complicated, actually. Hermione is supposed to arrive in London tomorrow, and she will come to the Ministry early in the morning. Peter Grindwald, the Minister of Magic of the United States wants her to investigate on Tellington work, to talk to his colleagues, to gather as much as information as he needs at the moment. And you, as the Head of the Auror office, you have to work with her, to be with her while she's here. We can't let her have more information about us, so you need to check over her during her stay among us."

"No. _Fucking_. Way," Harry retorted, his arms crossed over his chest. "She doesn't even talk to me anymore, I don't see why you are asking _me_ to do such a thing. Anyone can do this work."

"What image Grindwald would have of us if you are not able to do your own job, Harry? You perfectly know that this is a protocol matter: she will be under your supervision during her stay here, and it is your job, as the Head of the Auror office to watch over her. You know that I wouldn't ask you something like that if it wasn't necessary."

Harry grumbled something incomprehensible, his green eyes staring into space, as if he was trying to focus on what the Minister had just said to him. He had understood every word, of course; but for some reason, his brain didn't seem to realise what he had to do. The only thing that he was aware of was that he would have to see Hermione Granger once again, five years after her awkward departure, five years after that _incident_ between them, that oh-so strange accident that changed everything between them.

"You have no choice, Harry," Kingsley went on, knowing that the young man in front of him wouldn't say anything more.

Slowly, Harry raised from his chair, still not looking at the Minister of Magic. He headed to the door of his office in silence, at a slow pace. Arrived next to the door, he turned around, his eyes shining with an unusual light.

"I'll do my job, Minister."

**XxX**

"_He left. He just... he left," Hermione whispered, her head buried in her hands. She sat dumbly on the bed under the tent, her shoulders being startled by her intermittent sobs. _

_Ron had stormed out of the tent a few seconds earlier, after an ugly fight with Harry. The latter still had his jaw clenched, more disturbed than he seemed to be – he didn't want to worry Hermione more than she already was. _

_The locket that Ron had worn during so many days was on the floor, and Harry bent over to put it back around his neck: one should wear it, and obviously, Hermione wasn't in a mood good enough to wear it. _

"_Please, don't cry," he tried to calm her down, while Ron's words were still echoing into his head. His words about Ginny, about how detached Harry was toward his sister when she was obviously not safe at Hogwarts, everything came back to him. But what was he able to do where he was? He was trying to find a way to safe them all, and Ron wasn't clever enough to understand it. _

"_It is this damn locket," Hermione retorted bitterly, wiping of her tears. "He said all these things because he was under its spell, I know that he wouldn't have said something like that otherwise." _

_Harry wasn't sure of it, to be honest. Inwardly, he remembered about Ron's reaction during their fourth year, when he accused him to have put his name into the Goblet of Fire; his coldness, his bitterness, everything. _

"_We have... we need to destroy it, Harry. We can't stay in this situation any longer. Who knows what could happen if we wear it too much? You could... I don't want to lose you too." _

_Harry sighed, and headed to the bed where Hermione was, before seating right next to her. Awkwardly, he put his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to him. _

"_You are not going to lose me, Hermione. We are going to destroy this locket together, we have to." _

_Hermione nodded in silence, sniffing from time to time, doing her best to calm down. _

"_I feel so stupid," she muttered, her head resting on Harry's shoulder._

"_Why?," her friend asked in a quiet voice._

"_I didn't see it coming," she explained. "I didn't realise that he was so affected by this dark magic. I should have..."_

"_It's not your fault, and it's not Ron's fault either," Harry explained, even if it costed him to clear Ron's name after their fight. "Don't blame yourself: you have nothing to do with it." _

_She remained silent, and soon enough, Harry realised that Hermione was about to sleep. To cry after a long day could have this effect on someone, Harry thought while moving a little to give her some space to lay down on the bed. When he got up from the bed, Hermione opened her eyes, slightly confused. _

"_Where are you going?" she asked, her eyes asking him to stay with her. _

"_Not too far. You can sleep, it's late anyway. I'll be just outside the tent if you need me."_

_Hermione vehemently shook her head, visibly not happy by what Harry just said. _

"_No, please, don't leave," she begged, her voice hoarse. "Just stay with me tonight." _

"_I'll come back in a few minutes, I prom–"_

"_Please," she insisted. _

_What Harry saw in the bottom of Hermione's eyes at this moment, he would never forget it. It was a mingling of pain, sorrow and fear; fear to be alone in this mess, fear to see him leave just like Ron did, fear to lose the only person that she had left. _

_And for once, Harry was feeling the same things. He didn't want to be alone either, he didn't want to see her turn her back on him, he didn't want to lose her. Hermione was the only person that he had left in the middle of nowhere, and they needed to be there for each other; and for now, the least that he could do was to lay down on this bed with her, and to take her into his arms, just for her to feel that she wasn't alone anymore. _

_Then, slowly, without even uttering another word, Harry get rid of his shoes, while Hermione did the same. With a smile, she moved on the bed, just enough to give him some space to lay down. _

"_Thank you," she muttered when he was next to her. _

_Her hand searched for his, and when she finally found it, she squeezed it lightly, just to be sure that he was here, and that he wouldn't go anywhere without her noticing. _

"_You're welcome," Harry said back, before pulling the duvet on their still dressed bodies. _

_Hermione then turned around, facing the tent, her head rested on the pillow. _

"_You can get up once I'm asleep, you know," she said, and Harry took her into his arms, his breath caressing her exposed neck. _

"_I'm not going anywhere," he whispered, before muttering a spell to dim the lamps. "Sleep tight, Hermione." _

_His friend let out a sigh, and a few minutes later, she was fast asleep. Even though, Harry didn't move, giving her the attention that she needed at this exact moment. For the first time in weeks, he felt safe, and, given Hermione's calm breath, he knew that he wasn't the only one who felt this. _

_They were safe together. _

**XxX**

That night, Harry didn't sleep well – didn't sleep at all even. He had left the Auror office early, not wanting to talk to anyone. Some of his coworkers would be surprised to know how affected by Hermione's upcoming visit he was. Wasn't she supposed to be his best friend? Weren't they a part of the Golden Trio, the three most cherished persons of England? Of course they were, and Harry couldn't forget it. They were supposed to be a team, but so far, things had deteriorated between them. Even Ron wasn't really close to him anymore, but not for the same reasons: with his work as a professional Quidditch player, the redhead didn't have a lot of time to spend in London, and he was always travelling around the world. So was Harry, when his missions as an Auror obliged him to go abroad. It was nice to travel, nice to see other countries, something that he hadn't had the opportunity to do during his youth. But it was also nice to stay in London, to enjoy these peaceful moments far from danger.

At least, it was what these moments were supposed to be: peaceful.

But now, Harry wasn't sure that it was a good idea to stay in London for three weeks, before leaving again for another mission. Now that he knew that Hermione was supposed to come back, everything was different. From the beat of his heart – faster than ever – to the taste of his wine a few hours earlier, everything was different that night, as if his own body was trying to say something to say, to warn him that there was an upcoming danger dancing around.

A danger with chestnut curls and brown and vivid eyes.

Until now, Harry didn't even know that she was working for the American Ministry of Magic, and, to be honest, it wasn't something that he would have bet on. Hermione was a clever woman, of course, but the laws in America were totally different from the ones she was used to in England, and it could have been an obstacle to her career in such a demanding matter.

Nevertheless, Harry remembered that Kingsley told him how essential Hermione was to the Minister when it comes to the legal files, and he realised that it hadn't been an obstacle at all to the young woman's career.

It was almost three o'clock in the morning, and Harry drew on his cigarette for the last time, before crushing it into the ashtray. The latter was a gift from Kingsley, two years ago, when the Minister used to fulminate against Harry's habits to always look around in his office, searching for somewhere to crush his cigarette in. But now that the green-eyed wizard was trying to stop smocking, he had moved the ashtray from his office to his house. He hadn't used it in weeks, but at this moment, he really needed to calm himself down, at least to be less tense for the day to come.

Harry was at least sure about something: it would be an odd day. For years, he had tried to forget about her, forget about _what could have been if_... if things had been different, if they had taken other decisions instead of the ones that they had taken back then.

What had been done in the past couldn't be undone, and Harry was clever enough not to think otherwise. If there was something that he had learned with time passing by, it was that we always had to let go of the past.

But now, his past was coming back to haunt him.

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**I don't remember having read a story with Harry and Hermione not talking to each other, so I gave it a try. Let me know what you think of it. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

**Thank you for your positive answers to this story. I hope that you'll like this chapter as well!**

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**A Sky Full Of Stars**

**II**

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Hermione was playing with her pen absent-mindedly, her right leg moving at a fast tempo, a sign of her stress. From time to time, her movement stopped, and she wrote a few things on the piece of parchment in front of her; a few words only, not much, but it was enough for her to calm down for some seconds, just the time that she needed to stop thinking about the things that she didn't want to think about.

And above all, she didn't want to think about Harry Potter.

"Miss Granger?"

The voice of her assistant shook her out of her torpor, and the young woman almost jumped out of fear.

"Yes, I'm coming," she said, not even waiting for Patricia to tell her what she was supposed to do. Hermione knew perfectly well what she was supposed to do, thank you very much. She had feared this moment during days, and it all began when she had learned about Edward Tellington, this stupid Auror who had thought that it would be a good idea to go to the United States as a "_tourist"_. Thanks to Mr. Tellington – who was in custody right now, of course –, she was supposed to leave for London today, and to spend a few days at the Ministry of Magic of London.

At least, it was what the Minister of Magic of the United States had told her, two days ago. Hermione had of course asked if she was the only competent person to do it, and the Minister's answer had been positive. He wanted her to do it, because she was the person whom he trusted the most. And if there was something that Hermione didn't want to, it was to lose the trust of Peter Grindwald. He had helped her tremendously at her arrival at the Ministry four years ago, and she owed him a lot – she owed him almost _everything_.

"The Minister told me to give you this files, it will help you once in London," Patricia said when Hermione was next to her.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled at her while taking the pile of parchments. "Is it just about Mr. Tellington?"

"I don't think so. He just said that you will need it."

"Alright. Is the International Portkey ready?"

"Yes. You have ten minutes to leave."

"Good thing that my office is not far from it," Hermione sighed, doing her best not to make the pile of parchments fall on the floor.

"Do you want me to help you?" Patricia offered, noticing that Hermione was struggling with her small suitcase, her bag, and the parchments.

"No, thank you. I'll have to carry all of it alone once in London, so I better get used to it right now. Just promise me that you'll take care of my pot plants," she added, deadpan.

"Of course, Miss Granger," Patricia chuckled.

"_Hermione_," the young woman corrected her for the umpteenth time since Patricia's arrival at the Ministry.

"Of course, Hermione," she repeated conscientiously, but Hermione knew that she would go back to calling her Miss Granger in the future.

When Hermione entered into the room where the International Portkey was, she took a deep breath, hoping that Kingsley would be the one to welcome her at her arrival at the Ministry of Magic of London.

"Are you ready?," Patricia asked when she noticed that she was a little reluctant to take the crystal cup in front of her.

Hermione nodded without even thinking about it, and took a step toward the huge cup that looked alike the Goblet of Fire in many ways.

"Yes, I am," she muttered, not knowing if Patricia could hear her.

When she put her right hand on the crystal cup, everything around her start to move at a fast pace, faster and faster. Then, she closed her eyes.

**XxX**

_Knowing that your parents were dead was something; to finally be able to see their graves was another._

_From afar, Hermione looked at Harry, his head slightly bent over, his feet almost buried into the snow. He didn't move, as if he was slowly realising that it was real, that his parents were right in front of him even if he couldn't see them. _

_Hermione wasn't sure if she should step back for a few moments, to give Harry the solitude that he needed in such a hard moment, or to go next to him to show him that he wasn't alone, after all. Both of these options fought inside her head, but eventually, Harry turned around, his green eyes staring at her. _

_He gave her a shy smile, and Hermione understood that he needed her next to him. _

"_I'm here," she whispered while slowly taking his left hand into hers, her head resting on his shoulder._

_She didn't say anything else: it wasn't necessary. She just tried to give him all the courage that she had, all the faith in the future that she had left, even if it wasn't that much. _

"_Thank you," Harry eventually said, his hand firmly around hers._

"_It's the least that I can do." _

"_No... I'm not talking about being here for me. I want to thank you for following me in this crazy journey, while any of us knows what will happen in the future. Thank you for trusting me so much." _

_They remained silent during long minutes, too moved by the recent events to utter another word. They were together, and it was enough. _

_Enough for now._

**XxX**

"Miss Granger?"

"_Hermione_," she wanted to say, "_call me Hermione_". But she wasn't feeling well, and a certain form of dizziness took possession of her body. Her hand let out of the crystal Portkey, and she put her hand over her forehead.

"Are you alright?"

It was a man's voice, and she realised that she knew the owner of this voice. She didn't have the opportunity to hear it during the last few years, but she knew who it was.

"Minister...," she muttered, before taking the hand that was in front of her.

"Good thing that you know who I am," he said with a smile that she had so much trouble to see, before bending over to take the pile of parchments that was at her feet.

"I am not going to ask you if you travel well."

"There's no need to," Hermione sighed. "It's good to see you, Minister."

"The pleasure is mine. It's been a long time."

She simply nodded back before looking around, as if she was expecting to see someone anytime soon.

"Mr. Potter is in his office at the moment. He needs to take care of a few files before properly welcoming you."

"Oh, it's not a big deal," Hermione said in a rush. "Actually, I don't really need to see him to do my job here."

"It is the usual procedure, Miss Granger. Let us just hope that you are going to work together during this week."

"A week?"

Sure, Grindwald had told her about a few days of work, but _a week_?

"Aren't you aware? Your Portkey is supposed to work next Monday, around nine o'clock. There is no way for you to return to New-York before then."

Hermione pursed her lips, her hands clenched around the handle of her suitcase.

"Alright, it's fine. I just need to go to Mr. Tellington office if you don't mind."

"I would prefer for you to wait for Mr. Potter before beginning your work. _If you don't mind_, of course."

"_Great,_" she let out reluctantly. "I'll wait for Mr. Potter then."

"You have some tea here, along with food and a few newspapers,," Kingsley said with a wave of hand at the coffee table next to him. "London missed you, Hermione," he added with a smile before leaving the room.

"And I didn't miss this place...," Hermione muttered once alone.

**XxX**

_Dobby was dead. Hermione closed her eyes, doing her best not to cry in front of everyone. She had never been really close to the house elf, at least not like Harry had been in the past, but she couldn't help but feel hopeless, drained from all of her energy. She realised that everyone could die at any moment: Ron, who had joined them once again a few days before, the members of the Order..._

Harry.

_Everyone could die, even her parents who were in Australia could leave this world, and they would leave it without even knowing that they had a girl. _

_Hermione took a deep breath, her right hand over her neck, as if it would be enough to ease the pain that she was currently feeling. Her whole body was sore, tortured during so many hours by one sick woman called Bellatrix Lestrange. When she looked at her right hand, she realised that it was red with her own blood. Frowning, she touched her neck wound another time, and noticed that the crazy witch had really cut her throat. Not deep enough to kill her, of course, but the pain was hard to handle, and she let herself fall on the sand, not paying attention to everyone who was running toward them. _

_Harry was crying in front of her, the thin body of Dobby in his arms, and he didn't move when Bill came next to him, a sad expression all over his face. _

"_'Ermione, are you ok?" _

_The brunette looked up, just to see Fleur Delacour's pretty face a few inches from her, her hand over her shoulder._

"_My neck...," she managed to say in a hoarse voice, waiting for Fleur to tell her how profound her wound was._

"_Oh, 'Ermione...," she whispered, her hand entering in contact with the wound, making Hermione shudder. "Let me 'elp you, you will be better inside ze 'ouse."_

_Hermione shook her head erratically, not wanting to go inside. "I can't leave Harry here, I can't..."_

"_Bill is going to take care of 'Arry, don't worry." _

"_No, no, I need to be here for him, just help me to..." _

"_You're bleeding, 'Ermione," Fleur insisted. "I need to take care of your wound." _

_Hermione was starting to feel dizzy, and with a sigh, she eventually accepted._

"_Alright..." _

_During all the time that Fleur needed to heal her, she couldn't think about anything else than Harry. All that she wanted was to be next to him, to show him that she was here for him, like she had always been. _

**XxX**

And now, Hermione wanted everything but being next to Harry Potter. Knowing that he was supposed to come into the room where she was in a few minutes was enough to make her uncomfortable. If there was a way for her to return to New-York, she would do it without thinking about the consequences.

For the umpteenth time, she took a deep breath and fanned herself with her hand, a way for her to calm down.

When the door of the office opened, she didn't move. Since her armchair was turned toward the window, she couldn't be seen; she _couldn't see him_ either. Had he changed? She couldn't tell. Had he taken a few inches? She didn't know.

Slowly, she raised from her armchair, using its arms to support her weight. She then counted to three and turned around.

He had changed; of course he had. He was taller than in her memories, and his hair cut... it was different. Different from the last time when she had the opportunity to lay eyes on him. He was like an improved version of himself, stronger, more confident. His arms crossed over his chest showed how on the defensive he was, but Hermione couldn't blame him for it: for sure, she wasn't the only person here who wasn't pleased to be in this room.

"Hello," she muttered, before cursing herself for not having say it in a much louder voice.

Harry remained silent for a minute or two, enough to drive Hermione crazy.

"Hello to you too," he eventually said in a deep and calm voice, staring at her with no hint of a smile on his lips.

_This week is going to be fabulous_, Hermione thought sarcastically.

She couldn't have been more right.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

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**A Sky Full Of Stars**

**III**

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"_Are you alright?" _

_Harry's voice shook Hermione out of her torpor. She was sitting next to the window of her room, looking dreamingly at the outside of Shell Cottage. They were here since two days, and she was slowly recovering, not fast enough in her opinion though._

_Hermione turned her attention toward Harry, and smiled at him. _

"_Yes, I'm as fine as I can be given the circumstances. How are you?" _

"_Fine, I guess...," he sighed and sat on the bed next to her armchair. "Ron is with Bill, they are strengthening the spells around the house. _

"_Do they need some help?," Hermione asked while doing a movement to get up._

"_No, it's fine, I've already asked," Harry calmed her, a hand over her forearm. "Are you really alright? I mean, your neck and everything." _

_Hermione sat once again, and nodded slowly. "Yes, it's fine. Fleur took care of me, and she did an amazing job." _

_It was the first time since their unexpected arrival at Shell Cottage that they were alone together, and the young woman could almost feel the difference between them. When they were alone, every word seems to be a challenge, every movement was understood differently; It was like they were scared to be next to each other, scared of the electricity between them. _

"_And what about your other wounds?" _

"_I don't have other wounds," Hermione chuckled. "Thanks Merlin for small miracles." _

"_She used the Cruciatus Curse on you, Hermione," Harry let out in a breath, gazing intensively at her. _

"_I know," she simply said, her eyes escaping Harry's gaze. "But it's not a big deal." _

"_You can't fool me, Hermione. I know how it feels..." _

_He took her hand into his, bending over to do so, just to see Hermione shaking her head vehemently. _

"_I'm sure that it was different. Voldemort is stronger than Bellatrix, and..." _

"_I heard your screams." _

_Hermione didn't intend to cry; she cried a lot the previous days, and she thought, naively, that she was almost dried inside, that no tears could escape from her eyes anymore. But when Harry squeezed her hand a little harder, she started to sob uncontrollably, her head bent down, not wanting to be seen in a moment like this. _

_Harry did what she thought he would do: he didn't move. He just stayed here, his hand around her own, caressing the palm of her hand from time to time. He just waited for her to stop, for her to calm down. Ten minutes were necessary for her to do so, and when her sobs started to calm down, Harry handed her a handkerchief. _

"_Better now?" he slowly asked, moving his hand to her knee to give her the opportunity to wipe off her tears. _

"_Yes, thank you." _

_A silence then settled between them, and to Harry's surprise, it was Hermione who broke it a few minutes later._

"_It was awful," she began in a shaking voice, still not daring to look at him in the eyes. "I mean... I thought that it wouldn't stop, that she would continue until I die. I thought about so many things. I lost hope, Harry, and I realise that I wanted to die for a moment or two, just to make it stop. _

"_Somehow, when her dagger was next to me, I thought that it would be a good idea to just take it, you know, just because I didn't want to give her the satisfaction to kill me. If I had to die, I didn't want her to be my executioner." _

"_I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry simply said, and Hermione realised that he thought that it was his fault. _

"_Don't be," she said before smiling at him. "It would have happened anyway, even if I wasn't with you. Or who knows, it could have been worse." _

"_How are you feeling this then? I mean, the aftereffects..."_

"_It's harder than what I thought it would be like. My body is constantly sore, and... it still hurts. It's not the same kind of pain, of course, but it hurts. It's even worse during the night," she admitted, wiping off a lonely tear on her right cheek. _

"_Maybe that Fleur can help you with that, she had some amazing ointments." _

"_I've already asked her. She needs at least three or four days to prepare the good one, but I'm not sure if we have the time to wait." _

"_We can wait. We are not going to leave this house until you're better." _

"_It's not a big deal if we ca–"_

"_We are going to wait," Harry interrupted her. "Come here." _

_He got up, and invited Hermione to do the same. A second later, she was into his embrace, his lips gently kissing the top of her head. She felt same, like every time she was with him, close to him. _

"_Thank you," she muttered, her face close to his chest. _

_When she tried to get free from his embrace, she looked up at him and realised that his lips were so close from hers, so close... Harry slowly caressed her cheek, and for a second, she thought that he would kiss her. Just for a second. The second after, Ron's voice reached their ears, and they swiftly moved away from each other. _

"_I'm coming," Harry said in a low voice, answering to Ron. _

_With a last look full of unsaid things, Harry left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. _

**XxX**

"Did you travel well?"

Hermione tried to smile at him, but she soon realised that she couldn't manage to give him a _real smile_. Her expression was close to a grimace, and she quickly abandoned this idea.

"Yes, everything went well, thank you."

"I didn't think that you would really come, to be honest," Harry let out, before heading to the desk to take a pile of parchments.

"I'm just here to do my job, nothing more."

It was the truth, wasn't it? Even if a small part of her had expected to see him after all these years – a masochist part of her, of course –, she was just here to do her job after all.

"I guess that you were as excited as I was when you learned that you were supposed to work with me," the green-eyed wizard said sarcastically while reading his files, not paying that much attention to her.

"Of course, I wouldn't let an opportunity like this slip through my fingers."

Harry suddenly looked up at her, and put his files back on the desk.

"You've changed," he noticed, letting his gaze going from her face to her feet.

"And so have you," Hermione admitted in a breath. "Getting older suits you well."

She inwardly rolled her eyes when these words escaped from her mouth: the last thing that she wanted to do was to compliment him, and she just did it.

But Harry was quite right: she'd changed. Her hair was slightly lighter than usual, and her former untamed mane was now shiny and disciplined. She was a littler taller too, but not as much as Harry was. Since the end of the War, she had gained a few pounds, something that she needed after having lost so much weight while being on the run for almost a year.

"When are we going to work together then?," Hermione interrupted the flow of her own thoughts, suddenly thinking about what she was supposed to do here during a week.

"Now, if you want to follow me," Harry swiftly said before heading to the door.

Hermione followed him, doing her best to walk at his pace despite her high heels.

"Where are we going to?"

"I guess that the first place that you want to see is Mr. Tellington's office, am I right?"

"You are," Hermione whispered, hoping that they weren't far from this place.

Eventually, they arrived in front of the office of the accused Auror, and Hermione gave Harry a side-glance.

"Are you going to be with me the entire time?"

"Trust me, it's not a pleasure for me either. But it's my job as the Head of the Auror office, and yes, I have to be with you the entire time," Harry sighed, his expression undecipherable. "Come in."

Hermione swallowed hard; she had never liked to be spy on during her investigations, and it would be even harder with Harry Potter next to her. Without a single word, he sat in the armchair in front of Mr. Tellington desk, and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you waiting for to look for the evidences that you need?," he asked her like she was the dumbest person in the world, his fingers drumming at a rapid pace on the arm of the chair.

"Nothing," Hermione said back, her head up. She wouldn't be intimated by him, not in the slightest.

With as much pride as she could, she tried to avoid his presence in the room and started to look into Mr. Tellington files. She did it for at least twenty minutes, doing her best not to be too disturbed by Harry's attitude, but his ceaseless sights didn't help her to do so.

"Will you be over soon?" he asked with a disdain that she didn't know he would be capable of.

"I'm _working_," Hermione retorted without even looking up from the parchment that she was reading. "If you're not happy with it, you can send another person, I really don't mind."

Actually, she would be more than pleased to have someone else looking after her. Even Argus Filch would be better than Harry at the moment.

"It's my job," Harry grumbled.

"Then do it without disturbing me, please."

He didn't say another word, and Hermione continued to work in silence, looking at him from time to time. Despite the fact that he was almost continuously frowning – a perfect sign of his annoyance toward her –, Harry was still handsome, as handsome as in her dreams. They didn't occur that much, – the dreams –, but when she had one of them, Hermione couldn't focus on her job for almost two days. She always was disturbed by them, and always thought that it was a sign that she needed to come back, just to talk to him, to explain everything.

But she had never been able, never had the courage to do so.

Of course, Hermione didn't find anything valuable in Tellington's office after two hours of research.

"I need to talk to his co-workers."

"I'm here, right in front of you," Harry sarcastically grinned. "What do you want to know?"

"I'd prefer to talk to you later, if you don't mind. You are the Head of the Auror office, and your interview could be decisive."

"Alright," he said, not wanting to argue with her. "I'll lead you to the other Aurors then. But be aware that not all of them are here at the moment, they are on a mission. The rest of my co-workers will be here at the end of the week. I guess that it explains why you are going to stay so long among us."

Hermione got up from her chair and took the few files that she thought would be valuable in the future.

"Let's go then."

* * *

**Thank you for reading this story. I hope that you like it so far and that you're not too disturbed by the flash-backs. If you are, don't hesitate to say it, since it's the first time that I write a Harmony story like this one. :) **

**More soon!**


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